


A Thousand Times I'd Tell You

by creepy_crawly



Series: Pride Month 2020 [3]
Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Boys Are Dumb, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24845149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepy_crawly/pseuds/creepy_crawly
Summary: (Or, Five Times Yeonjun Confessed, And One Time Soobin Realised He Meant It)Choi Soobin may be the single most oblivious guy on the face of the planet. Just Yeonjun's luck that he's gone on him anyway.For Pride Month 2020!
Relationships: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun
Series: Pride Month 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1778242
Comments: 13
Kudos: 326





	A Thousand Times I'd Tell You

**Author's Note:**

> D'you want some sugar with that sweetness? First TXT fic, and, just like my love for them, it's SOFT AS ALL GET OUT

He just...blurts it out, the first time.

It’s been a long day, a long couple of days, hell, a long week. He’s not sure how many hours it’s been since he’s slept for more than a double handful of minutes, but knows it’s longer than he pretends. He’s not been sleeping well, recently, even when he gets the chance. That’s unfortunate, since they’ve not been getting a whole lot of time to sleep as of late. Hashtag promotions and all that.

Life’s developed its own odd little rhythm since they started promotions for  _ Platform 9 and Three-Quarters;_ it’s a whole lot of get up – practice – warm up – perform – practice – interview – perform. Food, sleep, and other biological necessities get wedged in where they can, or whenever Taehyun’s practically doing the pee-pee dance. (Since realising that Taehyun’s desperation gets them a five minute break, the maknae line have gotten kind of shameless about using it. Soobin hasn’t stopped them, which is kind of like silent approval.) 

Yeonjun’s not been sleeping as much as the others, though. Not because he’s not tired – he’s at least as exhausted as Beomgyu, which is to say, not as scraped to the bone as Soobin but not running on the same impossible sugar high as Kai – but because he’s too tired to sleep, physically and emotionally. His mind is a whirl, a tangle of anxieties about performing and anxieties about life and anxiety about the absolutely overwhelming  _ feelings _ he has. 

They’re on some show or another – Weekly Idol? There’s three hosts, so it might be Weekly Idol – and being pressed about their ideal types. BigHit’s promotional team has warned them that they’re going to play the sweet, boy-in-my-class image for as long as they can, and the five of them have leant into that happily, because it means far fewer relationship and dating questions for Yeonjun to dodge and Soobin to blush over and Taehyun to stammer his way through and then stress about. But they can’t avoid the idea entirely, and their publicists have arranged the boundaries with trusted agents, like Weekly Idol.

_ Just give them something sweet, something vague, _ Yeonjun’s publicity training says.  _ Someone kind, caring, who will get along with the members, _ his practiced brain says. 

“Soobinnie,” his mouth says.

There’s a beat, and then a laugh. Soobin’s laugh.

“Ah, hyung!” he chortles. “They’re asking about ideal types, not what you’re looking for in a friend!”

–––

The second time, he honestly thinks Soobin’s asleep.

Like, he’s not an idiot, you know? Well, okay. Not a  _ complete _ idiot, no matter what Beomgyu likes to imply when he’s just out of reach and knows it. Anyway, he knows better than to just outright say,  _ hey, male friend, I, another male, have a crush on you._ The whole group had taken it well when he’d come out to them, pre-debut, but there’s a huge gap between “okay with the fact that my friend likes guys” and “okay with my friend who I live with liking me.” 

So all things said and done, if he had any suspicion that Soobin wasn’t as completely sacked out as he seems? His mouth would stay shut.

But Soobin is…

He’s tucked tight into Yeonjun’s body, a sleepy curl of long limbs that, somehow, takes up way less space than he should. His arms are pulled up between them, pressed against Yeonjun’s chest and Soobin’s face. One round cheek is squished against Yeonjun’s collar, the other half-hidden behind his loosely-fisted hand. 

His eyes are closed, long lashes a sooty smear against the evening-fall purple of his undereyes. Breath whispers through his lips, dry and bright from constant application and reapplication of lipstain, but still in that too-familiar pout. It’s as natural to Soobin as breathing, that pout, and Yeonjun knows he has no idea how much power it actually has over...well, everyone. Like, the fans going wild over how Soobin ‘talks in pout’ is one thing, but even the  _ managers _ are weak for a pouty Soobin. So no one could possibly blame Yeonjun, gone as he is on this boy, for taking his time and letting himself  _ look, _ right? 

Yeonjun’s tracing the round bow of Soobin’s bottom lip with his eyes when the other boy whines and twists, a sleepy little stir of sound. His face scrunches up, just for a moment, then eases back to sleeping stillness. The hand pressed against Yeonjun’s chest flattens, fingers stretching over his heart, like he’s reassuring himself that it’s there.

“Shh,” Yeonjun soothes him, unthinkingly stroking a hand over Soobin’s forehead, brushing wisps of his hair away from his face as he tries to soothe away the distress. “You’re okay, Bin-my-love.”

The heart beneath Soobin’s fingertips races, then, as Soobin’s lips curl up, lazy and slow. “Like that, hyung,” he mumbles, peeling one eye open. “S’cute. Kai’ll fight you if you call him that, though.”

–––

He wishes he could say the third time was an accident, but honestly he’s just drunk. 

“Shhhh,” Yeonjun giggles, holding a finger up to his mouth. Or, well, up near his mouth. Close enough for government work, really. “Can’t wake anyone up!”

Tucked under his arm, Soobin grins, a broad, heart-breaking curl. “Oh, no,” he agrees. “Definitely can’t do that. What if leader-nim finds out you’re drunk?”

“Exta– Exat– Yes,” Yeonjun manages. “Can’t wake Sooooooobinnie up. Or maknaes.” He squints, then pokes a finger deep into Soobin’s grinning dimple. “Taehyun needs sleep to grow.”

That earns him an active hoot of laughter, followed by the loud sound of a smack. When he looks at his companion, Soobin has a palm flattened over his mouth, hiding sound and sight of his laughter, though his eyes are dancing.

“Definitely can’t wake the maknaes up,” Soobin says, finally. “Because Taehyun will  _ murder _ you if you say that to him. Or if I tell him you said that.” He looks Yeonjun up and down. “Drunk as you are, he’d definitely believe me.”

“Of course,” Yeonjun agrees, nodding affably. Then, awash – who moved the whole  _ world _ like that – he reaches out and steadies himself on the wall. “Woah.”

Soobin shakes his own head, but doesn’t reach for the wall. “You are  _ drunk,_” he says instead, patting Yeonjun’s hip where his arm wraps around him. “Let’s get you to bed, you disaster.” 

“Gonna take me to bed?” Yeonjun asks, raising an eyebrow. “My lucky day.” He giggles again.

“Oh my god,” Soobin breathes around a laugh. He tugs on Yeonjun. “Come on.” He starts strong-arming Yeonjun down the hall. 

Yeonjun goes easily, trusting Soobin to hold him steady. He keeps one hand against the wall, not because he doesn’t trust Soobin – he trusts him with absolutely everything he has, everything he is – but because he doesn’t trust himself. It would be mean to fall on Soobin, after all this. He can’t squish his sweet Soobinnie. Not that Soobin is small, at least physically. But Soobin is small and squishy in his emotions, his heart. It’d be awful to squish him. Terrible way to pay him back for his help avoiding waking up Soobin.

“Yup,” Soobin agrees, sounding strangely muffled. “Oh, look. It’s your bed!”

Yeonjun lets Soobin lay him down – or, well, angle him down; Yeonjun does the work of just falling back and going loose. He tries to help with his socks and his trousers, but Soobin swats his fumbling hands away. He gets him down to his shirt and his underwear, then tugs the sheet up to Yeonjun’s chest.

“Go to sleep, Yeonjunnie,” Soobin says, walking towards the door.

Yeonjun rolls onto his side, watching him go. “Soobinnie?” he asks.

Soobin pauses, looks back at him. “Yeah?”

“I like you,” Yeonjun says, rolling back onto his back. “I really, really like you.”

Soobin snorts. “Good night, hyung.”

–––

The fourth time  _ is _ an accident.

Well, it’s an accident in the sense that it’s not really how he planned to say this, but when the situation is as shit as it is, you just sort of make do, don’t you?

Soobin’s lips are tight, and his chin has that little tremble to it that means he’s fighting back tears. Still, he nods at the guest choreographer’s feedback. “Thank you,” he says, and bows. He steps back towards the half-circle where the rest of the group is sitting on the practice room floor.

The choreographer snorts. “Take fifteen,” he tells the group, catching the manager in the back’s eye. An exchange of expressions, and he heads for the door. They all watch him swing through, and then the door slams shut behind him.

Soobin flinches.

Yeonjun flinches with him.

The manager in the back stands up. “Right,” he says. “Fifteen minutes. Take a break. Don’t be late getting back, yeah?” 

They watch him leave, too, and then Yeonjun turns to the kids. “Right,” he says. “My wallet’s in the front pocket of my bag. Snack run. You know what we like.”

Kai looks like he might be about to say something, his lips parting, then decides against it. He pushes himself to his feet, scrambling after Beomgyu on their way to Yeonjun’s bag. Taehyun gives the two older boys a long, searching look, but he, too, heads towards the mirror. The three spend a few moments rustling through Yeonjun’s bag, and then they’re making their way out the door. 

Notably, it doesn’t slam.

Yeonjun lets his gaze drift to Soobin, who has withdrawn into himself, pulling his arms in close, tucking his chin down against his chest. His cheeks are flushed, and his face is sweaty, but Yeonjun knows that’s not all exercise. With a grunt, he boosts himself upright, sparing a moment to brush floor-dust off on his thighs. Two steps later, he’s standing beside Soobin.

“Hey,” he said quietly, reaching out and laying a hand on the other boy’s upper arm. “It’s just us, okay?”

He stands strong as Soobin pivots and falls into him, fullbody. Soobin’s face is pressed into his shoulder, and Yeonjun says nothing about the way his shoulders shake, the way his back shudders beneath Yeonjun’s enclosing arm. He sweats enough that any dampness Soobin contributes is just another drop in the bucket, nearly literally.

Yeonjun sways a little, rubbing up and down Soobin’s back, cooing to him. This isn’t the first time they’ve done this, nor, they both know, will it be the last. BigHit’s staff expect the best from their artists, and they’ve no qualms letting them know when they’re not meeting those expectations. Normally, they can all take it on the chin easy enough; they’ve spent years building up thick skins and learning to turn what sound like cruel words into the intended adjustments.

But everyone has bad days, or tired days, or days when they just can’t keep it up. And that’s when you need each other.

“I feel so stupid,” Soobin sniffles, snuggling closer.

Selfish, Yeonjun lets him. He likes to imagine Soobin letting him hold him more, in other circumstances, not just when he’s sitting on the ragged edge of a breakdown. He’s proud that it’s his embrace that Soobin finds comfort in, even if he wishes that he could offer him comfort and strength in other ways, at other times, more readily.

Unthinkingly, he lays his head against Soobin. He feels the other boy stiffen against him, just for a second, but before he can straighten up, Soobin’s melting against him with a sigh. Yeonjun, knowing he has only a few more minutes before the younger boys get back, throws caution to the wind.

“You’re not stupid,” he says, running his nails in circles over Soobin’s back. “Don’t think that. You’re just having a rough day.”

Soobin laughs into his shoulder. “Yeah, and had to throw the kids out of the room so I can cry all over you like a great sloppy mess.” He tries to draw back, pulling an arm up between them as if to wipe at his eyes.

Yeonjun doesn’t let him go, just waits until he’s swiped the worst of the tears away, then tugging him back into the hug. “We all need a break sometimes,” he tells Soobin. “No judgment. I could never think poorly of you, anyway; when it comes to you, Choi Soobin, I am a marshmallow. I’m completely and utterly gone on you.”

That gets him a giggled, messy snort. “Sure, hyung.” Soobin turns his face, so that his head rests more comfortably on Yeonjun’s shoulder. 

He might not be listening, Yeonjun thinks, but at least he’s smiling.

–––

He’s actually trying to confess, the fifth time, which is what makes it so frustrating.

A few days before, Taehyun and Kai had cornered him during their dinner break, while he was waiting for the hot water to finish its magic in his cup of ramyeon. With the absolute merciless honesty of maknaes everywhere, they’d pressed him for the truth, and then given him their ultimatum: confess. 

“Tell hyung,” Taehyun had said, still smiling sweetly, “or we do.”

Beside him, Kai had grinned, his cheeks practically eating his eyes with how broad his smirk was. “You know me, hyung,” he said, false sugar in every syllable. “Can’t keep a secret about something that great!”

Bullshit, Yeonjun knows. Kai keeps the entire’s group’s secrets locked behind his teeth, especially the ones they deliberately share. He doesn’t spill unless he has to. But, as evidence has been showing, Soobin doesn’t always see what’s dead in front of his face, so trusting that Kai’s general trustworthiness will keep the secret is...not really an option. 

All told, here’s Yeonjun, standing in the small kitchen that they use when they’re living in practice rooms, prepping for comeback, bouncing from foot to foot. He’s got a fruity soda in one hand, and a semi-forbidden candy bar in the other. The words of his confession – the words he’s been practicing in the shower – are on the tip of his tongue, ready and waiting. 

Now all he needs is Soobin.

Thankfully, while the maknaes may be horrible scheming brats, they’re also good kids, and so it doesn’t take long before Soobin’s coming into the kitchen, beaming. 

“Hey, hyung!” he says brightly. “Taehyunnie said you were looking for me?”

All of his planned words desert him; Yeonjun rambles out, “Soobin, I, um, I really like you and I think you’re really sweet.” He thrusts the two treats forward.

Bemused, Soobin blinks. It takes him a moment, then he accepts the candy bar and soda. Cocking his head to the side, he grins. The expression is bright and carefree.

Yeonjun feels it down to his very  _ soul. _

“Ah, hyung,” Soobin says, grin widening further. “You didn’t have to go this far to cheer me up!” Then he bounds forward, throws his arms around Yeonjun, and smacks a loud, playful kiss to the side of his head. “Thanks, though!”

And he’s gone, leaving Yeonjun staring through the doorway like a fool.

–––

The first sign Yeonjun has that anything has changed is Soobin slamming into the room, a wild look on his face.

“You!” Soobin blurts, stabbing towards him with a finger.

“Me?” Yeonjun asks, pointing at himself. He’s sitting cross-legged on his bed, laptop open, halfway through a movie. He has no clue what could possibly have Soobin so stirred up; it’s not like he’s been up to anything particularly scandalous recently, and he knows he’s picked his towel up off the bathroom floor.

“You!” Soobin squawks again. He pushes the door closed behind himself. “You like me!”

Yeonjun can only blink. Which of the kids finally laid the truth out for their leader? He owes someone chicken, clearly. “Yes?”

“Like, you  _ like me _ like me!”

“Yes.”

His ready acknowledgement seems to steal the wind from Soobin’s sails. The other boy lowers his hand, his shoulders and spine relaxing. He bites his bottom lip, hands coming together in front of him. After a moment, he shifts his weight on his feet, and asks, “you like me?”

Yeonjun huffs a laugh through his nose, hitting pause on his movie. “Yeah, Soobinnie. I like you.” Then, to head off what he suspects is the next question, he says, “I  _ like you _ like you.”

Soobin stares at him. Quiet, more nervous and uncertain than Yeonjun has heard him in a while, he asks, “Yeonjun-hyung...why?”

Swinging his legs off the bed, Yeonjun stands up. Three long strides later, he’s crossed the room, and is standing in front of Soobin. He takes the other boy’s hands in his, breaking up his fidgety fingers.

Soobin just stares at him, doe-eyes wide.

“Because,” Yeonjun answers. “Because you’re you. You’re kind, you’re caring, you get along with all of the members, and you take care of us. You’re sweet and snuggly when you sleep. You take care of me when I’m drunk, even when I’ve woken you up. You get so upset when you have a bad day, because you think the rest of us will judge you, but you’ll do anything to help us when we’re upset. You’re thoughtful.”

“I…” Soobin says. He licks his lips, then says, “I can’t believe...I’m kind of dumb, aren’t I?” His nose scrunches up as he laughs.

“Tad bit,” Yeonjun agrees, grinning. “Part of your charm.”

Tangling their fingers together, Soobin squeezes Yeonjun’s hands. “I really, really hope you keep thinking so,” he says. “‘Cause I think you’re kind of stuck with me.”

Yeonjun grins. “I think I’ll survive.”


End file.
